


Hedera Grandifolia Ascendi

by Phrensiedom



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Original Character(s), Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Physical Disability, Post-Game(s), Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:02:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27192823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phrensiedom/pseuds/Phrensiedom
Summary: A diminutive figure from Simon's past appears, stirring up painful memories and emotions.
Relationships: Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	Hedera Grandifolia Ascendi

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in my personal post-revolution AU continuity. There will be more of Simon, Markus, and Ivy, I just needed to get their reunion out of my head and into words.

Simon and Markus sat side-by-side on a bench in the garden behind Jericho Foundation headquarters, practicing mindfulness meditation to address Markus’ critically high stress levels. It had been an ongoing problem for the past 11 months since the android revolution, his baseline level of stress vacillating from 70 to 85%. Diagnostics had ruled out mechanical causes, leaving only emotional causes—the weight of millions of android lives balanced precariously on his shoulders was immense, and he bore it only with Simon’s careful support. The night before, as they lay in bed, holding one another close, Markus finally disclosed his stress level had reached 86% one week prior, sending Simon into a panic. 

Their hands were clasped, their arms intertwined, and nestled in the cradle formed by their touching thighs. Markus’ head rested on Simon’s shoulder, his mismatched ocean-blue and olive-green eyes absorbing every detail of the palm-shaped, orange-red leaf Simon had plucked from the vines that clung to the building’s walls. While the purpose of the exercise was to practice maintaining focus and remaining present in the moment, his attention wandered. 

First to thoughts of how much extra money they were spending per month to rent a building with such a well-cared for garden, small though it was. The bench on which they sat was made of smooth, multicolored granite, and the garden was surrounded by a tall privacy fence. While currently barren, during the spring and summer months, it was filled with flowers, and a small pathway wound its way through it. It was a soothing spot on its own, but Simon’s soothing presence made it one of his favorite environments to ease his stress. And yet, when he tried what Simon had researched in a panic-fueled frenzy, his thoughts repeatedly returned to money and how their spending of it was akin to stealing it from the pockets of their people. This led to a spiral of thoughts about what they could do about it, the necessary steps, and the accompanying sub-steps. If anything, he would guess it was increasing his stress, but he had agreed not to check it until the three minutes were over.

“Okay,” Simon said, there’s three minutes. Tell me how it was.”

Running the rapid diagnostic, Markus sighed and said, “81%.” Up from 79.

“Did you keep bringing your attention back to the leaf when you realized you were getting distracted?”

Markus hesitated. His instinct was to massage the truth, but he couldn’t lie to Simon, not about this. He said, “At first, yes, but I began to feel guilty and couldn’t keep it up.”

Simon kissed the top of his head and said, “Me too, but I think it’s common for beginners. The practice is the point, not if you’re doing it ‘right’ or ‘wrong.’” 

Markus nodded and raised his head, finding Simon’s sky-blue gaze and giving him a faint smile. After a moment, his eyebrows drew together, and he seemed to have something to say, but they were interrupted before he could manage to speak. 

“Simon?” The blonde android turned to the rear door of the building where a security guard stood with a young child at her side. The bench was on the other side of the garden, but the guard’s voice was clear in his mind. “This kid just walked in the front door and asked for you. She said she knows you, and she described you to a T.”

Simon didn’t recognize the child from across the garden, but there was still the possibility they knew one another. He requested the guard give him a moment and handed the small leaf to Markus, saying, “I’ll be back. You just relax.”

He crossed to the door and knelt before the child, studying her up and down to figure out whom she could possibly be. She had white skin that was a touch paler than his own, platinum blonde hair that reached just past her shoulder blades with a natural wave to it, and one functioning honey brown eye. Her right eye was dead, the sclera and pupil black as the night sky, the iris a faint midnight blue, undoubtedly as a result of blunt physical trauma to the housing of the optical unit, equivalent to the outer orbital bones in humans. The polymer was deeply fractured, the synthetic skin failing in the area and revealing the true shades of brilliant white and cloudy grey composing her body that lay beneath. There would be no way to fix the damage without replacing her entire head and with it, her very soul. She wore a long-sleeved dress that was patterned with multicolored pastel butterflies on a navy background and reached her knees. It was a tad dingy, but that was understandable for a young child who appeared to be all on her own. 

After only a few moments of examining her, Simon whispered, “Isaac?”

The child grinned and flung her arms about his neck for a tight hug. Simon scooped her up and stood, clasping her to his chest in a hug that would have been crushing to a human child. She giggled and tightened her arms, pressing the sides of their heads together. 

“Isaac,” Simon whispered, “you’re alive. Thank RA9. I—”

“My name is Ivy now,” she said, her voice soft as a newborn kitten’s mewl. 

Simon hesitated for a beat and then said, “Ivy. Got it,” nodding.

She giggled again and pulled away from the hug, so Simon loosened his grip and shifted her to resting on his hip, so easily slipping back into his caretaking programming.

“So, I take it you know her,” the guard said, laughing. Simon nodded, and she headed back into the building with a wave. 

Hearing the approaching crunch of mulch beneath Markus’ shoes, Simon turned back to observe and found himself appreciating the confidence with which the man carried himself, even at such high levels of stress and, if what Simon had interpreted in his eyes a few minutes earlier were correct, fear—his back was perfectly straight, his chin raised, his stride long. Some days Simon found himself comparing it against his own poor bearing, which tended toward defensive, protective, his shoulders curled forward, his chin lowered toward his chest, his steps shorter, but in that moment, he was simply proud of his partner. 

Ivy noticed him as well and gave him a smile and a wave. 

“Hello,” Markus said, a smile on his lips. “What’s your name?”

The girl’s eyes flicked to meet Simon’s, and he nodded. In the same hushed voice, which Simon was beginning to understand was all the louder she felt she could safely speak, she said, “My name is Ivy. What’s yours?”

“Markus,” he said. “How do you know Simon?”

Fearful she might let slip something he wasn’t yet ready to share, Simon stepped in and answered for her. “We lived together. Before we deviated.”

Ivy nodded in agreement.

“Oh, so you knew my Simon—” Markus took Simon’s hand in his own, giving rise to a furious blush, “—before he even knew himself.”

Ivy stared at Simon for a few moments, and then leaned in close, cupping her hands to his ear. She whispered, “Are you boyfriends?”

Markus’ face contorted with suppressed laughter, and he raised a hand to hide his mouth. Simon’s lips twitched, but he managed to keep it together, even when Ivy tilted her head closer to his so he could whisper back into her ear. Following her lead, he mimicked her actions, cupping one hand to her head, while still holding her with the other, and whispering, “Yes.”

Ivy’s eyes grew wide, along with her grin, and she covered her mouth with both of her hands, gasping softly. Despite everything she had experienced, she still found immense joy in the world. It both reassured Simon and twisted the twin knives of guilt and shame deeper into his gut to see this. He gave her a smile, and she flung her arms about his neck, pressing their cheeks together as she squeezed him. It was almost as if they had never been apart.

But they had, and Simon didn’t know if he could forgive himself for failing her. He swallowed hard, and said, “Markus, I would appreciate some time alone with Ivy. We have a lot to catch up on.” 

“Of course.” Markus extended the leaf they had used as a focal point to Ivy, who accepted and studied it for a few moments. “I’ll be in our office. Come find me when you’re ready to go home.” 

Simon nodded, and Markus gave his hand a squeeze before stepping past them and disappearing into the building. 

“I like him,” Ivy said, resting her head on Simon’s shoulder. 

“Me too.”

Ivy lifted her head to look at him and give him a silly grin, her nose scrunching and teeth showing. Simon couldn’t help but smile too. Though she had smiled when they were still together, the smiles had always been joyless, effected by her programming. His had been the same. To see such delight in her face briefly alleviated the agonizing ache in his belly.

Simon lowered Ivy’s feet to the grass and said, “Would you like to explore the garden while we talk?”

“Sure!” She extended her left hand, which Simon immediately recognized was severely fire-damaged, synthetic skin missing from her wrist all the way to her fingertips, her ring finger, pinky finger, and the edge of her hand completely blackened. Simon took it gingerly, fearful of hurting her, but she didn’t even seem to notice. Her fore- and middle fingers curled to grip his hand, but the damaged fingers remained largely straight, likely permanently damaged. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Well, for starters, how did you find me?”

Ivy tilted her head to the side, thoughtful, and said, "On Android Independence Day, Jason watched everything they showed on TV, and he was so scared and distracted, he didn't notice I was watching too."

Simon couldn't prevent the involuntary stiffening of muscles throughout his entire body at the name of his former owner. Fortunately, Ivy did not appear to notice. 

"So, when your boyfriend--" she hesitated, her forehead rumpling as she struggled to remember his name, "--Markus!" She grinned, pleased with herself, and continued, "When he was telling people they had to be nicer to androids, I saw you standing behind him."

Though the flower beds were empty, Ivy sat in front of one, set aside her leaf, and plunged her already grubby fingers into the dirt. Simon sat next to her, struggling to rein in his childcare programming, which had only been further deepened by Jason's "parenting." 

"How did you know it was me and not a different PL600?"

Ivy shrugged and said, "I dunno. I just knew." Grabbing a stray stick, she laid it down in the deep furrow she had dug and buried it. “After I ran away, I went to a lot of different places and always asked about you, but no one could help me.” She placed a ring of rocks on top of the dirt surrounding the burial spot. “But then, last week, I got to go into a Jericho shelter for the first time, and someone told me you worked here. So, I came here.” She pressed the rocks into the dirt. “I had to give up my spot at the shelter, but…” She trailed off and shrugged, her eyes locked on her hands. 

Simon’s stomach was clenched tight. He had caused her so much pain, and yet, she had sacrificed stable housing just to see him. 

“When did you run away?”

“On Android Independence Day. Jason—I—He—He—” Ivy fell silent again, her hands stilling for a moment, her gaze unfocused, but she snapped back quickly with a couple of hard blinks. She wiped the dirt off on her dress before grabbing the leaf and leaping to her feet. She ran back to the building, leaving Simon behind, baffled and distressed by her response. He pushed himself to his feet and followed her. When he reached her, she was gazing up at the vines that twisted along the wall above her. 

She said, “It’s such a pretty color right now.” She ran her small hands across the red, orange, and yellow leaves. “It almost makes the building look like it’s on fire.”

Simon squatted beside her, placing two light fingers on her arm to get her attention. She turned her head and smiled at him, her eyebrows raised in question. Voice low and soft, he said, “Have you been alone this entire time?”

Her expression collapsed, but she held his gaze and said, “Mostly.”

“Where will you go now?”

Ivy shrugged and said, “I’ll figure it out.”

Simon shook his head. The thought of her sleeping even one more night in an abandoned house or in a park or an alley overwhelmed him with shame and sorrow, his throat tightening to the point of pain, and his stomach rolling and writhing. Studying her eyes—behind which lay a strong, resilient soul that had endured horrors no child, human or android, should be subjected to—he made a snap decision that he knew he would never regret. 

“Would you like to come home with us?”

Ivy stared at him for a few long moments until something clicked and tears welled in her eyes. Two swollen teardrops escaped and tracked down her cheeks as she ducked her head and hunched her shoulders, dropping the leaf so she could hold her upper arms, hugging herself. She was overwhelmed, that much was clear.

Sitting and crossing his legs, Simon said, “It looks like you want to be held. May I hold you?”

Ivy nodded, her translucent hair hanging in front of her face, and stepped closer to him. Looping one arm about her shoulders and the other beneath her knees, he lifted her and placed her sideways on his lap. She rested her head on his chest, continuing to shake, and Simon wrapped his arms about her, holding her tight. 

They sat together like this for a long while until he heard his partner’s soft voice in his head, saying, “We can buy her clothes and a bed on the way home.” 

Simon thanked him. Inclining his head to get a better view her face, he parted the curtain of Ivy’s hair and swept half to one side, using a barrette that just barely remained clinging to her bangs, to pin it up. He wove the stem of the leaf Markus had handed her into the taut hair above the barrette, hoping it would stay secured for at least the next few hours. Tucking the other half of her hair behind her ear, he said, “Shall we go home?”

Ivy raised her head and wiped her cheeks with her forearm, her grimy dress leaving streaks behind. She nodded and put her arms about his neck in preparation for being carried. As Simon stood and headed back into the building, her gaze drifted back to the tapestry of ivy that had gradually grown and climbed, centimeter over tiny centimeter, through years of windstorm, drought, and blizzard, to tower above them, stretching ever higher.


End file.
